“Yeah, you could say they’ve been utterly silent,” Bernie said with a straight face, taking a long swallow of water.
Abby gave him a loathsome look for the terrible joke, but ended up laughing, just a little. That’s something Zach would have said, she thought. That one joke made her like Bernie a little bit more. Or dislike him a little bit less, perhaps. Either way, Abby decided to thaw her cold shoulder just a tad.
“You girls sleep alright?” Bernie asked.
“Better than I have in a while,” Abby admitted, and then she added, “Thanks.” That got a double take from Bernie, and he grinned.
“Hey, uh, you… young lady,” Donny started to say to Abby, stumbling over his words. “I just… I wanted to s-say… you know, I’m just… I’m sorry. ‘Bout sh-shooting at you.”
Abby glared at him for a moment, then waved her hand and said, “Eh, don’t beat yourself up. It’s hardly the first time I’ve been shot at, and nowhere near the closest someone’s come to killing me.”
“You say that like you’ve been through a war,” Dale noted.
“No, not through a war. Just Hell.”
Dale and Bernie both nodded, the silence stretching on as everyone chewed on their food. “Dale and I were in the war once,” Bernie finally said. “Afghanistan. Now we didn’t get in as much shit as some guys did, but gunfights are gunfights, ya know? Had several of those, lost too many friends.”
Dale didn’t add anything to this. Abby figured it was a particularly painful conversation for him. Having been with Zach for so long, she knew that some combat veterans could talk about their experiences, like Bernie, while others had to bottle it up. It wasn’t about being strong or weak, it was just a difference of how to cope with trauma. And that was a feeling Abby herself was beginning to understand all too well.
“I’m sorry,” Abby said. “We don’t have to talk about that.”
“So have you all been living here since before everything went to shit?” Emma asked, trying to move the conversation along.
“No, we came down from the city,” Dale said. “When the undead started running around, we got our families and got out of there, but we didn’t go too far. Most of the folks around here started getting cold feet, didn’t want to get too far away from what was familiar territory.”
“So are these all relatives?” Abby asked.
“Not everyone,” Bernie replied. “Dale is Donny’s dad, I’m his uncle. Our parents were here but… they passed away.”
“Pneumonia,” Donny interjected. “Last winter.”
“Yeah,” Dale said.
There was an awkward silence that stretched several seconds. “We suck at good conversation, Emma,” Abby said, staring down at her plate.
Dale chuckled and said, “No harm done, ma’am. No use in being mopey, I reckon. I mean, who doesn’t have a bad past these days.”
“Anyway,” Bernie said, “like I was saying, we’re a bunch of different families. Our neighbors and us fled the city, picked up some families on the way, and we’ve just hunkered down out here. Still hoping this’ll all blow over and the Army or someone will come get us.”
“I gave up hope on that a long time ago,” Emma said as she shoveled the final bite of eggs into her mouth.
“My… family had pretty much the same idea,” Abby said. She didn’t want to bring Zach into the conversation with this many people around, so she decided to invent a family. “We were holed up in a little cabin up in Illinois, but we were attacked by raiders. And now, here I am.”
No one asked her to elaborate any more on that, her story filled with holes and no middle, and Abby was grateful for that. She didn’t like people prying too far into her life. She finished all the food on her plate, gulped down the last of her water, and said, “Thanks for the breakfast.”
“Our pleasure,” Bernie replied with a smile. Then he stood up and started gathering everyone’s plates to place on the pale yellow countertops behind him.
“So, are you ladies still planning on leaving straight away?” Dale asked as he wiped his mouth with a washcloth.
“I think so,” Emma replied. She shot a glance at Abby and she nodded her head in approval.
“Well, I’d hate to send you off without giving you a little something for the road,” Dale continued. He looked like he was about to say something more but he was interrupted by a loud crack coming from the kitchen counters, like someone had smacked a porcelain plate down on the counter just a little too hard. Everyone looked over at Bernie, his face flushed slightly red.
“Sorry,” he said, holding up a chipped plate. “Slipped out of my hands.”
“Anyway, as I was saying,” said Dale as he fished a cigarette and lighter out of his pants pockets, “I’d like to give you ladies a little something to take with you out there. Oh, you don’t mind if I smoke?”
“Your house, your rules,” Abby insisted. Dale thanked her with a wink and then lit up the cigarette.
“Say Donny, why don’t you run over to my house?” Bernie said as he leaned back against the countertops. “I’ve got a little extra food, you can bring it back here for our guests.”
“On it,” Donny replied. He pushed his chair out from the table and headed towards the front door, opening and then closing it behind him.
“You girls need any ammunition or weapons?” Bernie asked them.
“If you’ve got some 7.62mm round for our rifle, that’d be great,” Emma said.
“And some .45 ACP?” Abby added.
“Yeah, I think we can spare a few rounds,” Dale said, rubbing his chin. Then he took a long drag on his cigarette.
“.45 ACP, huh?” Bernie asked. “No 9mm?”
Abby shook her head. “I used to have a 9mm Glock, but I lost it. I picked up this 1911, and it works alright. Not my favorite, but it’ll do.”
Bernie let out a low whistle. “No shit, a 1911?” he asked. “I don’t know why you sound so ambivalent about it, I’d say that’s quite a find!”
“I mean, yeah it’s a good gun,” Abby said, turning in her chair to face Bernie. “But I preferred the 9mm. Fit in my hands better, less recoil, more accurate. It was better for me.”
“Oh, that’s hogwash,” Bernie said, waving a hand in dismissal. He stood up straighter and said, “A 1911 can be just as accurate and quick to fire as any 9mm, but it’s all about how you grip it. Give it here, let me show you.”
Abby depressed the button on the side of her thigh holster, unlocking it, and pulled free her gun. And before she thought about what she was doing, she handed it to Bernie.
“Thanks,” he said, then he whispered, “Goodbye, brother.”
Bernie raised the pistol and fired a single shot at Dale. The bullet pierced his right eye and exited out of the back of his head, knocking him over out of his chair. Bernie turned and fired two rapid shots in the direction of his empty chair, both rounds impacting the wall behind it.
“Don’t move!” Bernie shouted, backing up away from the table, leveling the pistol at Abby and Emma. They were both in shock, even Abby, and their ears were ringing from the three successive rounds being fired in a small room just a few feet from their heads.
“Help, I need help! They killed Dale!” Bernie shouted. Donny showed up a moment later. He had heard the shots and came sprinting back, holding the same black rifle he had shot the night before, but he dropped it to the ground when he saw Dale on the floor.
“Oh my… Dad, no!” he cried. His legs went numb and he fell to the floor, sobbing and covering his face with his hands.
Abby looked at Donny and despite her lingering animosity towards him for shooting at her the previous night, she felt her heart break. She knew all too well what Donny was feeling, something no one their age should have to know. He’d just lost his father. Abby turned and glared at Bernie. She ground her teeth in anger and her hands were balled up in white-knuckled fists. “You fucking piece of shit!” she shouted.
“You killed your fucking brother!” Emma
added.
“Fuck you!” Bernie yelled. By God, the man had tears in his eyes, Abby noted. He was putting on an Oscar-worthy performance. “How the fuck do you murder a man in his own home and lie about it?! He was only trying to help you!”
By now more people had made their way into the house, gasping as the saw the scene before them. “Well, what’d I tell ya?” Bernie yelled over his shoulder. “I told you all! We’ve become an easy target! These girls here were going to make off with everything we had, and Dale told them over his dead body. And now… ” His voice trailed off into a whimper, and he brushed aside tears with his left hand, keeping the pistol aimed at Abby and Emma.
“And now my brother is dead!” Bernie continued. “The little one tried to kill me too, she shot at me twice but missed, and I disarmed her!”
“That’s horseshit!” Abby cried, looking towards the crowd. But she could see in their faces that her words would not sway them in the slightest.
“Go round everyone up! Everyone!” Bernie said to the small crowd behind him, still keeping his eyes and gun trained on Abby. “Have everyone gather in the field, by the tractor. These two will face justice out there, you better believe it.”
By the time he’d uttered those last few words, Abby noticed a crack in the façade. The raw, almost genuine emotion that had been on his face and in his words just a moment before slipped away and was replaced with a cold calmness. Abby had heard that tone before, and it was never the kind used by men with good intentions. But watching the crowd disperse to do Bernie’s bidding, Abby realized she must have been the only one to catch this.
“For what it’s worth, I hate that it’s come to this,” Bernie said when they were alone. “Turns out you weren’t thieves or killers, but what about the next group Dale would have welcomed in? And the one after that? Hell, I wish you had tried to rob us. Things might have gone better.”
“Oh, there’s a better way to murder your brother?” Emma asked.
“You think I wanted to do that, you stupid bitch?” Bernie asked, his face suddenly contorting with rage. “I loved my brother. I loved him! But he was weak, and he bought every sob story he ever heard, and sooner or later his big heart would have killed us all. I did what I had to for the greater good of the community.”
“How can murdering your brother ever be for the greater good?” Abby asked.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Bernie whispered. “You can’t possibly understand what it takes to survive in this life, to make the hard decisions, to risk everything like I just did for a higher purpose. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, and you’re just a little girl.”
“Then just kill us already, fucking creep,” Emma said. Had it not been for her broken arm, she may have been able to draw and fire on Bernie, but she was just too slow with her left.
“No, that’s not how this is gonna work,” Bernie replied. “I’m gonna do this right. We’re going to go out there, I’ll give a big, emotional speech to the people about the danger of being soft, and how we have to live moving forward under my leadership. That’s the kind of dramatic shit that will make them follow me and obey. Then I’ll tell them we need to kill you, make an example of you. Maybe I’ll let them vote on it, but don’t get your hopes up. No matter what they say, you’re not getting out of here alive.”
“Vote to kill us? Boy, I love me some Athenian democracy. Got any hemlock?” Abby said in a dry tone.
“Don’t get cute,” Bernie said. “And by the way, this wasn’t some deep, convoluted plan of mine to kill you two. This morning I was going to let this all be water under the bridge. But Dale had to go and offer you two whatever the hell you wanted just now, and that was the last straw. So when I saw an opportunity this morning, I took it. Just thought you should know that.”
“Glad you could clear your conscience,” Abby muttered. She looked at Emma for no particular reason, and she thought she saw Emma give the slightest wink of her eye.
Bernie took a deep breath and blew it out. “Alright you two,” he said, and he motioned with his left hand for them to start moving.
“Wait!” Emma cried, causing Bernie to turn towards her. “There’s just thing I have to know before I die.”
“And what’s that?“ Bernie asked, but he never received an answer.
Abby had sensed that Emma was causing a distraction, and it worked. She gave a swift but strong push kick to the wooden chair between her and Bernie, sending it flying across the smooth kitchen floor, banging into Bernie’s knee. His leg buckled and he cursed as he stumbled back and gripped the counter to keep from falling over. He brought the gun up to shoot Abby, but she was too fast.
Abby pushed Bernie’s gun hand up and to the side just as he fired, and a bullet punctured a hole in the ceiling above them. Using her forward momentum, Abby drove her knee up into Bernie’s groin and grabbed the barrel of the gun, twisting it out of his hand.
With her gun back in her possession, Abby leapt back to put some space between herself and Bernie, but as soon as he had lost control of the situation Bernie was on the move. He flung himself out of the kitchen and dashed down the hall, exiting out the front door.
“Come on!” Abby said to Emma. They both grabbed their packs and their rifle and ran out the back door. They could already hear a loud commotion behind them as Bernie shouted for everyone to arm themselves.
“Get the tube!” Bernie yelled, or that’s what Abby thought she heard at least. She didn’t quite understand, but right now she was only focused on escaping with Emma.
They sprinted away from the road and the cluster of houses, across the open ground and towards the trees in front of them about one hundred yards away. They knew there was a river on the other side of this thicket, but it should still be frozen over enough that they could traverse it on foot. They reached the trees and plunged into the foliage.
A sharp crack resounded in the air, followed by several more cracks and hisses as bullets flew past Abby and Emma. They both dove for cover behind the closest two trees and turned to return fire. Six people were on the edge of the thicket with an assortment of different firearms, and they were shooting at the girls. Emma rapidly shot four times while Abby fired two well-aimed rounds from her rifle: the first looked like it clipped one of the men’s heads, and he stumbled over behind a tree with one hand to his ear, and the second round impacted a tree a woman had just ducked behind.
With a momentary reprieve secured, Abby and Emma hopped back up and sprinted away, zigging and zagging as they went. They heard more gunfire, but it sounded less accurate than the initial salvo. Abby looked over her shoulder and slowed her pace a little.
“Hey, I don’t see anyone,” she called to Emma, who also slowed to a jog. The girls scanned all about them, looking for a flanking element or an ambush, but no one could be seen. The air became serene, and quiet, as if all those people had been suddenly wiped off the planet.
Then they heard it. A loud, metallic thunk that came from a distance behind them, followed by a loud ripping sound high up above them, like a jumbo jet flying through the air at low altitude. Emma looked back in confusion, but Abby had already pieced together the puzzle and suddenly became well aware of what Bernie had meant when he called for a tube.
“Get down!” Abby screamed, tackling Emma into the snow. Then came the explosion in front of them, hitting Abby like a baseball bat to the stomach.
Her ears were still ringing but Abby immediately jumped to her feet and helped Emma up. “They have a goddamn mortar!” she cried.
“That motherfucker!” Emma yelled. She was in obvious pain after Abby had shoved her down, but she soldiered on.
“Come on!”
They broke into a sprint again, but after no more than five ticks of the second hand they heard another thunk, followed by yet another tearing sound. “Down!” Abby yelled, and they both hit the deck, covering their heads as best they could. The explosion rocked the ground like before, but it felt like it had been a little further off tha
n the first one. Abby and Emma jumped up again and dashed ahead. They could see the end of the trees and the icy river in the near distance. They were almost there.
There was a third thunk, but this time no sound followed afterwards. In an instant, Abby’s silver eyes grew wide with fear. She remembered stories that Zach had told her about his time in the war. She remembered how he had told her that, contrary to popular opinion, if you heard the whooshing sound of a mortar round then you were in luck. That sound was the air above you being sliced by the flying round, and it was going past you. But if silence followed the firing of the round…
“Dive!” Abby shouted. She put her arm around Emma and threw herself forward, dragging Emma with her. They hit the ground and in the next instant felt the searing heat of the exploding 60mm ordnance, no more than twenty yards behind them. The sound punctured their ear drums, and for a few seconds they couldn’t hear a single thing but a lone, high-pitched buzz.
Abby felt herself all over under her coat and over her legs, feeling for blood. Some nicks and cuts oozing blood on her chest and back, but nothing major. Her left pant leg had taken some shredding, and only a thin trickle of blood rolled down her leg, but everything seemed intact. Emma looked unharmed, as well.
Abby noticed the billowing black smoke behind them, obscuring them from being spotted for the moment. “We gotta go,” she croaked, her voice hoarse. She helped Emma to her feet and they stumbled forward, breaking out of the trees and coming to the bank of the river. There was a slight hump in the ground ahead of them, and they both threw themselves behind it, hoping to rest there for a minute before daring to cross the river.
“That fucking psychopath,” Emma gasped as she ejected the half-empty magazine from her pistol and replaced it with a full one, sliding the former into her cargo pocket.
They sat in silence then, listening for another tell-tale report of a mortar round. But there was nothing. For several seconds, the only sounds to be heard were their own breathing and the constant ringing in their ears.
His Name Was Zach (Book 2): Her Name Was Abby Page 10
